ROATAN

Schu is currently on the island of Roatan. Some quick historical facts, provided by Roatan Gazette. And supposedly those ghosts, who have been assigned to watch gold, will tell you exactly where to find it if they’re bored of their post!

Roatan, the island located in the Caribbean Sea falls under the territory of Honduras. It is at a distance of fifty miles from the Honduran Island. It has a vibrant history that is woven with the legends of pirates, invaders, buried gold, Indians and a mixture of languages and races. Christopher Columbus had discovered Guiana, a neighboring island in the year 1502. The islands were already inhabited and the artifacts left in the caves by the inhabitants can be found today. Columbus was followed by Spanish explorers. They began mining gold in Honduras. The Spaniards enslaved the Indians and the Africans and they set up cattle ranches for providing food and living to the miners.

The English settlers also landed up on this island. William Claiborne was authorized to set up a colony on the Roatan Island in the year 1638. He was from Virginia.

A Dutchman raided the Spanish settlements in the year 1639. The French and the English also terrorized them. The English raiders came in 1642 and occupied Port Royal which was further off from the present day Port Royal. The Spanish however wanted to get hold of all the gold in Port Royal and led attacks against the pirates. The pirates were conquered and the Spaniards along with the Indians later moved on to Guatemala.

1742 saw the settling of the Englishmen in Roatan but Roatan was lost in March 1782 and finally the English had to leave the island in the year 1788. The Black Caribs who are a blend of the African Carib descent and the Arawak Indian descent came to live on this island.

Spanish is the national language in Roatan but English is also spoken on this island. The Roatan Island is a wonderful mixture of cultures, language and people. Tourism is the industry and the primary sports are scuba diving. The legend runs that ghosts or “duppees” inhabit the island.

Roatan has a rich history of the early days of the Indians, the pirates, the attacks to the modern day independence.

Island in the Sun

The main street is sand and gravel. Potted after heavy rains like the surface of the moon. There is only the one road, but then we are on the local resort side of the island, not the poor side, not as my brit mates said, the loud american holiday all inclusive resort side- which has the only spectacular beach, and kids selling bootleg dvds, necklaces and bangles, fake sun glasses and a smile.

I saw an eagle sting ray last night from the deckboards of our restaurant (and little fish) gliding silently majestically by. Though i haven't snorkeled or kayaked or gone anywhere so reluctant am I to engage with the water, I do grimace at the fact I haven't yet seen a turtle. But tanning I can do. And dips into the pool. And staring into the horizon, watching for dolphins and the frequent fast moving clouds. And lounging over the rail as I'm watching for my fresh made breakfast.

Tomorrow we leave at 12pm and take a flight... in a tiny airplane to the capital of Hondurus.

Tonight we have dinner at 7.

Today I have done nothing but ponder the nature of my physical being. Constant, stable, plodding. Not given to moving fast through water or sprinting down mountains. Reconciling my nature with my desire to be something different. To not apologize for the way in which my body and mind moves through space. Feeling good. Eaten fantastic eggs and toast breakfasts with bacon, garlic shrimp... loads of club soda. Sauntering around in a gauzy skirt and flipflops, hair matted in curls down my back. Shuffling here and there, pausing to watch the birds manuever the volcanic rock, the hummingbird in the nest near the walkway, the tiny beetle i saved from the pool, as I blew it clear of the edge, every foot until I hoped it had learned its lesson.

Also thinking about all my past trips and what the point of them are... the intersection of memory and something significant- conflict, a feeling of bliss, the turn of a head, the shrug of a shoulder... looks, roadsigns, the memory of a pinecone in a brownneedled bed, the juice of a fresh warm plum, my foot upon a graveled path.